


The Poofer

by ck90



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon? What canon..., F/M, Fluff and Humor, Post Hogwarts AU, no one died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ck90/pseuds/ck90
Summary: A year after the Final Battle, Hermione gets some unwanted advice.





	The Poofer

How quickly time flies...

It was actually rather difficult to believe that one year could go by so quickly. One year since the fall of Voldemort and his Dark Army. Once year since – well, for the most part – their lives normalized. One year since... Hermione stopped as a rather loud and obnoxious laugh got her attention. Would they ever stop swarming him, she wondered absently as she saw numerous witches blatantly throw themselves at Sirius who politely smiled as he tried to detach himself from the swarm of clingy, fortune-hunting leeches that constantly surrounded him.

Sirius looked up meeting her gaze with a warm smile and a wink. Hermione couldn't help but smile back, though her smile faltered a bit when one of the piranhas put her hand on his arm, crowding him. Hermione had to admire how he handled the unwanted attention. Sirius smiled, patting the witch's hand even as he deftly extricated his arm from her steely grip, before turning back to quickly introduce her to someone else in the group. It was rather smooth actually. The silly twit didn't even realize that she had been summarily dismissed.

“Don't waste your time, honey.”

Hermione dragged her rather besotted gaze away from the handsome older wizard and turned to the blond stranger that had started talking to her. “Pardon?”

The older witch waved her now empty glass at the bartender, “Don't waste your time with that one. He's pretty but -” she shrugged, “don't waste your time.

Hermione looked quizzically at the witch, “I don't understand.”

“You look familiar,” the old witch said. “Have we met?”

“No, I don't think so.” Hermione picked up her champagne glass and took a nice long drink, hiding her smile. “I just have one of those familiar faces, I suppose. Were you talking about the Black heir?”

The older witch snorted, “Definitely the last of his line. Unless he somehow snookers some poor unsuspecting witch.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not personally, no,” the witch responded. “We went to Hogwarts at the same time, though I was a year or two ahead of him.”

Hermione hummed politely, giving the older witch a vague nod and turned her attention back to her drink. A year or two? Hah! If that was true, then Hermione was a champion Seeker.

“So don't waste your time.” The older witch continued. She motioned for yet another refill.

Hermione started to scoot out of her out of her seat, but the other witch grabbed her arm.

“Darling, don't you know?” the witch asked. “He's chasing for the other team,” she said assuredly.

Hermione froze.

The witch looked at Hermione's blank stare and leaned forward whispering rather loudly, “He's a poofer.”

“But -”

“Trust me, darling, you're barking up the wrong tree,” the witch said confidently. “And I can prove it.”

“Do tell,” Hermione managed to choke out.

“He was all chummy with these other three blokes in school.”

“And?”

“They got into all sorts of mischief together,” the witch said confidently. “There were even rumors that the four of them snuck out of school. On a regular basis,” the witch nodded. “It's as if they were on some sort of cycle or following a monthly ritual.”

“You don't say,” Hermione said.

“Oh I do and I'm not the only one,” the witch continued. “After that poor Potter incident, you're too young to know about the first war, but after the Potter's were so brutally struck down by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -”

“Voldemort,” Hermione said dryly.

“Ahh! You young people should show some respect!” the witch huffed. "You-Know-Who,” she insisted. “Well he was so overcome with grief, he simply allowed himself to be imprisoned for decades -”

“Twelve years,” Hermione corrected.

“And you simply do not just let that happen if you are just friends with somebody. It bespoke of a closer -” she leaned in again with her faked stage whisper, “intimate relationship.”

“And?” Hermione asked again.

“Is that not enough for you?” the witch retorted. “I'm telling you he's as queer as they come. And such a waste too,” she shook her head sadly. “With those wicked looks and that body which was built for sin – ahhh! – tragic. At least for us gals, but then again, it's always the pretty ones that twink.

“You're still not convinced, are you? Well, he lives with all these other blokes, including one of his,” she raised her hands mimicking air quotes, “old schoolmates. It's a regular bloke orgy in that Black Manor, these days, I tell you.”

Hermione bit her lip and tried to swallow her amused snort. “But I thought there was a girl – what's her name? - living with there too. Rather scandalous, I suppose.”

A smile played across her lips.

“Hermia or Henrietta Gangrene or something,” the witch waved her hand dismissively. “From what I hear she is all brains, always has her face buried in a book, which is probably why she looks the way she does and you know what they say about those witches, anyhow.”

Hermione's jaw tightened. “What do they say?” 

“That a witch like that couldn't pay a bloke if you get my meaning,” the witch said, tipping her drink back in order to get every drop, then slammed it down on the bar, demanding another.

Hermione's amusement had quickly evaporated and she was about to give the old hag a piece of her mind when a hand gripped her waist spinning her chair around.

“Darling, we've made our appearance now it's time to go before that mad cackle of harpies try to sink their claws back into me,” Sirius complained. “I'm all bruised and in need of a little tender loving care.”

Her anger dissipated quickly as she allowed his warmth and merriment to squash her annoyance. “Am I the knight in shining armor and you're the poor damsel in distress?” Hermione asked.

Sirius smirked, “We can role play again, if you want, love. But I don't think that French Maid outfit of yours will fit me.” He leaned forward and captured her lips, kissing her thoroughly. “On the other hand, for more of that, I'm willing to try it on.”

“Let's go home, Princess, so you can shag me senseless,” he held out his hand, gripping hers tightly when she placed it in his.

Hermione turned to the stunned, gaping older witch and whispered, “Definitely not a poofer and it's Hermione Granger.”

**Author's Note:**

> Another (old) 30 Candles one-shot


End file.
